


7 Failures

by RantingSalads



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, eddie and stan r good friends, idk what else to tag, richie and stan r GREAT friends and everyone sleeps on it, richie has a brother in this but thats a secret until Later, the friendships are important, this fic is abt healing! and growth!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-10-28 08:31:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20775596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RantingSalads/pseuds/RantingSalads
Summary: Richie Tozier has been controlled and restricted his whole life from peers and parents alike, and quite frankly he's tired of it. That's why on a seemingly random day in the middle of the year he decides to move almost entirely across the country to live in a quaint complex with his childhood best friend, Stan. When he gets there though, after meeting Eddie Kaspbrak, his life takes a sharp turn in a direction he'd never thought possible.  Maybe at the end of the tunnel there's light after all.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, let's try this again! This is mainly an outlet for a bunch of scenes I wanted to write that just so happen to be loosely connected by plot.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not every chapter will be solely dialogue like this!! Its mainly context :3

Richie Tozier was never one to quit easy. He’s never really understood the concept of other people: how their lives are different from his, how their likes and dislikes are different from his, that his boundaries are not the same as others’ are, how everyone has a life outside of interacting with him, how people can exist without him even knowing, how the universe continues no matter what happens. It was too big for him to wrap his mind around. He didn’t like facing problems that couldn’t be solved or studied at just face value. He couldn’t think ahead and understand what the consequences of his actions were. All his life he’d spoken out and conveyed what he thought, whether it be through words or actions, and was always yelled at or treated negatively for it. It was all he knew, it was all he was used to, so he didn’t believe that there was really a good outcome to anything anymore, and old habits die hard as they say. So this, of course, lead to the piece-of-shit-trashmouth-tozier, which his best friend Stan so kindly crowned him, that exists today. Twenty two years old and fresh out his third place of residency in the last four years.

“That has _got_ to be a new record.” Stan said after hearing this news over the phone. “Even for you.” Richie let out an odd sound from the other end of the line, kind of like a mix between a chortle and a sigh.

“Actually, Stan the Man, I got kicked out of a frat house within a month when i first joined college. THAT is my record.” Richie said placing down his phone on the counter in front of him, pressing the speaker button. 

“Holy shit I remember that, what did you do again?” Stan said, only a little mortified at just how much his friend moves around. 

“I’m honestly not even one hundred on that,” Richie picked up his toothbrush and placed some toothpaste on it, “I think the main dude or whoever said something about not taking an oath, and like, smashing his girlfriend, I’m not sure.”

“Classic Richie.” Stan rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I never really liked that frat anyways- or any frat I visited for that matter. I don’t think that life style suits m- Stanley fucking Uris I want to die.” Richie had suddenly dropped his voice an octave, becoming serious.

“Tell me about it, what happened?” Said Stan, only slightly concerned.

“Okay so here I am, talking to my best friend at six in the god damned morning- wait why are you even up so early? What were you doing?”

“I-” Stan began.

“Anyways,” Richie continued. Stan sighed. “Here I am, talking to my best friend at six in the god damned morning about how I got evicted from another apartment, when I got to brush my teeth. Everything is normal about this right? Right. Going good, going smoothly. I put the toothpaste on my fuckin’ brush and this bitch has the audacity to fall the FUCK right off when I put it under the water. I cannot believe what just happened to me. I think I need therapy after tonight. Today.”

“I think you need therapy for a lot more than toothpaste falling off the brush Trashmouth.” Stan said, trying his hardest not to laugh at his friend’s tangent. 

“Rude!” Said Richie, trying to put toothpaste on his brush again.

A comfortable silence fell between the two as Richie continued to freshen up, just a little. Contrary to popular belief, the man did not like to have sour breath and an oily face at six a.m. 

Stan himself decided to get up and start making coffee, he wasn’t going to sleep after hurting his stomach from holding back that laugh. 

“Anyways,” Richie began after finishing his teeth and rubbing his face down with a warm hand towel. “Two topics now need to be covered.”

“Hmm?” Stan hummed, walking down the stairs to the shared kitchen of his apartment building and turning Richie to speakerphone. 

“Where the fuck I’m gonna live, and what the fuck you’re doing up at six in the morning on a Thursday- fuck, Friday?.”

“Why are _you_ up at six in the morning on a Friday, huh? Tozier?” Stan had entered the kitchen by now, his feet comfortably shielded from the cold checkered tile by his beige slippers. 

“Oof, breaking out last names are we? Anyways, I was listening to music and I’d run out of meds, like, two days ago, so I was off the wall all day and never really stopped. The usual.”

“No, Richie, it should not be ‘The Usual’ for you to run out of your prescription.” Stan had started coffee, and was getting out his mug. It was pale blue with the word pride written in a small font above a rainbow flag. It was a gift from Richie on his 17th birthday, back when stan had been accidentally outed and was received negatively by his dad. A small, fond smile appeared on his face.

“-anyways that’s why I think dogs should be able to vote.” Richie finished whatever absurd thing he had gone off topic about with a confidence in his voice that should not have belonged there.

“three things. Okay one, what the actual fuck. Two, I totally spaced out besides that last bit. three, what the actual fuck.”

“Aha! I knew you weren’t listening! What were you thinking about Stan,” Richie had suddenly made his voice all sappy, “was it a boy? Oooo! Does my wittle Stanny Wanny have a cwush? Is that why wittle old Stanny Wanny couldn’t fall aswe-” Stan had hung up on Richie, a bright blush covering the majority of his face as he desperately wished the coffee was done.

On the other side, Richie was fucking dying. God he hadn’t laughed so hard in a while, tears threatening to spill while he was curled up on the ground, grasping at his stomach and gasping for air. A hot minute later he had called Stan back, laughter still soaking his voice.

“Stan this is why I’m being kicked out, I’m too loud. Im laughing so fucking hard right now you don’t understand. I literally died I’m dead now.” Richie was still out of breath.

“I can tell, asshole. And I mean, you weren’t wrong, I think.” Stan’s blush had deepened.

“WAIT HOLY SHIT. STANOTHY ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU, STANELY FUCKING URIS, HAVE A CRUSH ON SOMEONE? WHAT MIRACLE? @ GOD CAN YOU DO THIS SHIT FOR ME? WHAT THE FUCK!” Richie was losing his shit.

“Did- did you just, tag god? In a real conversation? What the fuck?” Stan made no move to quiet his speech this time, as he had been for the entire conversation.

“NO! STAN! I SHOULD BE THE ONE SAYING WHAT THE FUCK! IS HE HOT? WHERE DOES HE LIVE? HOW DID YOU FALL IN LOVE? I’M SHAKING MY BABY BOY IS GROWING UP.” Richie continued to lose his shit.

“Richard I swear I will hang up on you again and not answer when you call me back, also stop yelling it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Okay before you even start on that bullshit, this is a huge deal!” Richie had gone back to his normal speaking voice, albeit that wasn’t the quietest either, it was better than his shrieking. “Stan you haven’t had a real crush since Mr. Hammon! Is he straight?”

“Richie, oh my god! That was fourth grade! I didn’t even know gay people existed then!” Stan poured a cup of coffee and sat at one of the three small tables in the kitchen. “And, no, he’s not straight. I actually got super scared whenever I first realized I might be into him because he was dating this girl at the time. But they’ve broken up since and after game night on friday, which involved more alcohol than I’m willing to admit-”

“You just did.”

“Shut up I’m telling a story. Anyways, he was drunk, I was drunk too, though the most sober in the room, and we were all just talking and having fun when civil rights came up and let’s just say, out of the 10 people in this building most of us are gay. One couple though didn’t take a fancy to that are are literally moving out because of that. It’s kind of funny in hinds-”

“Fantastic!”

“Interrupt me one more fucking time and say goodbye to your entire vinyl collection.”

“You wouldn’t dare Staniel.”

“Try me.”

“But wait! Aren’t you gonna ask why that’s fantastic?” The toast Richie had put in the toaster a few minutes ago had finally popped out, nearly scaring the shit of him.

“Because homophobes are moving out because of their homophobia? What?”

“No! Silly! That means I can move in! We can relive that sappy childhood promise that every pair of best friends made where if both of them ended up sad and alone they’d move in together.”

“Excuse me, I vividly remember you being just as serious about it at the time as I was, and I also vividly remember literally just telling you about my single, not straight crush, that lives in the apartment right above mine.” Stan took a sip from his coffee. 

“Yeah yeah whatever. Give me the run down though, and like, the rent, ‘cause I have this idea that I’m keeping super secret for a while but it might be expensive so.” Richie took his toast and plopped down on the floor in front of his couch. He had cleaned and packed up most the place and didn’t want to ruin anything again. That would mean even more cleaning. Guh.

“Whatever, anyways.” Stan began. “I live in this weird apartment that has three stories. The first floor holding the landlord’s space, the kitchen, a closet holding cleaning supplies, a recreation room, the really basic stuff. Keep in mind that all of this is really shitty because I’m pretty sure this building has lived through three different wars. The second floor has four apartments, and the third floor has four apartments. Each apartment holds a bedroom, a bathroom, a small living room sort of space, and a space where a kitchenette would go. However, all the kitchenettes were removed to make room for more living space, plus it saves money because nine different households won't be using nine different kitchens. Only one big one. It’s a mediocre building but It’s really cute, and super aesthetically pleasing. Plus the roof is really good for bird watching and chilling.”

“Okay sorry I almost fell asleep. I know all that stuff Stan!” Richie whined. “C’mon tell me the good stuff, give me the gossip.” Stan took another sip of his coffee, and Richie took a bite of his toast. (More like inhaled half of it in one breath.)

“Whatever. Theres Me, Bill, who I think I might like, this really cool girl named Bev, I think you’d love her, Ben, who has a massive crush on Bev, Mike, who is literally the nicest person I’ve met in my entire life, Eddie, who is so active I get tired just looking at him, and Anna and Edgar, who are the homophobes. Actually, Anna was the only one I heard being blatantly homophobic so I don’t know about her husband, they’re both moving regardless. There’s also the landlord, whose name is Ms.Linda, she’s this little mixed old woman who is legit the cutest ever, she’s like seventy something and has two massive rottweilers. I’m fucking terrified of them so I have to get Bill to take my bills down.” Richie opened his mouth. “Don’t you dare say it Tozier.” Stan took a sip of his coffee and then continued. “Eddie is like the only one of us that doesn’t cry a little every time he sees them, the dude loves them like they were his children or something and they love him right back. It’s surreal to watch, especially since he’s probably half the size of one of them.” Richie wondered silently about this Eddie person, he sounded kind of interesting, if loving rottweilers was anything to go off of. “And then that leaves Dylan. I don’t think I’ve ever talked to her before, she’s literally never here and whenever she is she just stays in her room the entire time.”

“Do you know any more about Eddie?” Were the first words out of Richie’s mouth. Stan laughed a little.

“Yeah, he’s like, 5’6 and also so cute. My building is full of cute people. He’s super fit and goes on runs almost every day. He’s tan and has freckles and round eyes and I literally cannot do him justice verbally describing him. He’s kind of a hypochondriac though and is frequently seen with a fanny pack, though no one really cares because it’s 2019 and you could wear a pillowcase as a dress and people would ask you where you got it.”

“Yo dude it kind of sounds like you have a crush on Eddie, and not Bill.”

“Don’t even get me started on Bill. This boy is the epitome of everything good ever. He’s 6’2” even, making him taller than you bitch.”

“Oh fuck off! By half an inch!” Richie yelled. Snickering, Stan continued.

“He’s confident in himself and loves to bike and just be outside. He reminds me of the ocean even though he’s afraid of it and-”

Stan had to take the phone off of speaker when the ugliest noise came out of the little box, it kind of sounded like a snore but honestly Stan was more impressed at how Richie made it with a human mouth.

“I cannot fucking believe you Richie.”

“I’m joking.”

“RICHIE I SWEAR.”

“Dude I get the point, you’re literally in love with him. You should shoot your shot. What’s the rent?” Stan answered Richie’s question, still a little salty due to being cut off so rudely. 

“It’s way cheaper than what you’re paying that for sure. The place is close enough to the city to bike there but is also close to an older part of town called Riverside, it’s so beautiful there.”

“Okay I think you’ve sold me this place and an entire squad.”

“I don’t love you and want you to move here or anything, but I do love this place.”

“Okay we both know that first half was a lie, but dude it’s like nearly five now, I’ve got a car to rent and pack.”

“You? Driving? From New York to Colorado?.” Stan snorted into his coffee.

“Honestly I’m more scared about that than moving. And besides, I’ve got an idea, I think your little loser hole is the perfect place for home base.”

“Okay, whatever that means.”

“Great I’m moving in this Saturday.” 

“Excuse me?” Stan choked on his coffee.

“Okay I know I’m a hot mess, multiplying the hot times three and the mess by seven, but I’m not so dumb as to not immediately choose to move into the building my only friend left lives in. Surely you didn’t miss your neighbor’s listing go down last Sunday.”

“Sometimes you surprise me Trashmouth.”

“Sometimes I surprise myself. Mainly when I finish yet another 5 season show in two in a half days, but I surprise myself.”

“Going back to the previous topic, the sun is literally rising right now so I’m gonna let you go.”

“Askjfbdkjbfhdsk.”

“How did you do that.

“Do what?”

“Goodbye, Richie.” And with that, Stan hung up. 

Richie, on the other hand, stared out his living room window, finishing the toast he had made quietly. Sure, New York was fun, but something just didn’t feel right, and he was sitting on a ticking time bomb.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the rest of the losers as the building comes alive! Kind of sad this chapter bc eddie is Melancholy but thats nothing a lil' tozier can't fix.... eventually...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank u for reading i LOVE U ND LOVE URSELF!

The smoke from her cigarette mingled with the fog from her warm breath as Beverly Marsh sighed. She was sitting on a small wooden swing bench with her legs criss-crossed. She glanced at her watch, and then at the rising sun above the treetops. It was a peaceful day. The air was cold, but her lungs and her heart were warm. Probably from the toxic chemicals within her system but she decided not to dwell too long on that. Everything was calm with the birds chirping every so often and the creak of the old dark wood beneath her filling the silence.

She loved mornings like these. It felt as though the world was finally asleep, like everything was put on pause. The stress from her shitty 9 to 5 job didn’t exist, the terrifying nightmares from trauma didn’t plague her being, no one was around to judge her every move. Things were simple at six thirty in the morning, conversation was small and easy, and everything was soaked in a warm pink. Her dreams, not the nightmares, felt real at this time.

Getting up and stretching out her back, she moved to the edge of the roof, in between a plant and another chair to take one last drag of her cigarette. As she watched the smoke rise into a sheen, blending with the soft colors of the sky, she whispered, “God, I am so lonely.” She spoke as though she was afraid the world would hear her and fight back.

Snuffing the cancer stick out in the ashtray which rested on a small table, she sighed yet again and headed back into the building, hopefully to catch a few more hours of sleep before she was rudely awoken by the ringing of her alarm clock. 

Everything was quiet until she’d gotten to the stairs leading down to the first floor, she was going to grab a snack when she’d suddenly heard, “Do you know any more about Eddie?”

It was a voice she’d never heard before, charismatic but arrogant. Then, Stan had answered the voice. “He’s tan and has freckles and round eyes and I literally cannot do him justice verbally describing him.” This caught Beverly’s ear, and made her stifle laughter. 

Stan and the Mystery Man, whose name turned out to be Richie, talked more about the building and its inhabitants. Apparently Stan had a massive crush on Bill, and Richie was moving in on Saturday, juicy. She honestly though could not wait to meet Richie. She had learned a bit about him through Stan’s rants, but nothing could be like the real deal. Beverly, however, was quickly knocked out of her stupor as she heard Stan cleaning whatever he had been using, and she decided to vacate the area.

Quietly standing up from the top step, where she had decided to sit and listen, she made her way back down the hall and into her own apartment, which happened to be near Stan’s. Bev then made her way to her bedroom, realizing only then that she had an hour and a half of sleep left instead of two. “Fuck,” she muttered, before forcing herself to shut her eyes and count sheep.

In the apartment next to hers however, Eddie Kaspbrak was having absolutely none of what Friday had already begun to offer. He’d woken up three minutes before his alarm was scheduled to go off, which was somewhere around 6, by his neighbor Bev shutting her bedroom door just a little too loud. Eddie wanted to stay in bed longer, but he knew it was pointless, so that left him shutting and opening his eyes every so often for three grueling minutes as he waged a war in his head counting down how much time he had left to sleep.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“God DAMNIT,” Eddie gasped, sitting up in his bed. _There’s no better way to wake up than being jolted out of sleep minutes before your fucking alarm goes off, which makes you stress and sweat for some god unknown reason._ Eddie ranted in his head as he angrily got out of bed. Just getting out of his door, he had stubbed his toes twice, and hit his side on the door frame. “I’m going to strangle the first person I see,” he muttered.

Messily, the small man shoved his feet into the only pair of shoes by his door. They just so happened to be his iconic white chucks. “I am not going to tie you on my feet.” Eddie spoke to the shoes as he opened his front door and stumbled towards the kitchen, his sneakers haphazardly clinging onto the front of his feet. 

Yawning obnoxiously, Eddie made his way down the hall and to the stairs. Being only half awake and not nearly coordinated enough in the current moment to even be allowed outside his apartment, he didn’t notice Stan coming up the stairs and ran straight into him.

“Oof!” Stan grunted. Eddie looked at him in disbelief.

“Did you just say oof, in this day and age?”

“Richie’s fault.” Stan quickly blurted, “goodbye.” And retreated into his apartment.

Guess Eddie didn’t murder the first person he saw after all, for sure, though, it’d be a miracle if he didn’t murder someone today. Shrugging, he continued into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, moving to sit down next to the window. 

He sighed and watched the steam rise from his plain red mug, taking in the silence of the kitchen in front of him. The walls were a pale green and the floor a busy white and black checkered pattern. The tables were made of a warn dark wood, while the cabinets were covered in a chipping white paint. He didn’t know why but everything felt like a home right after the parents had gotten in a fight, not that he’d know, and the thought made his head hurt and his heart beat fast. He took a slow sip of coffee and put his head down on his forearm.

“Edward? Are you okay?” A soft voice called and he abruptly sat up.

“Oh! Ms. Handen! I’m-” he sputtered, “yes I’m fine. Just tired.” He clasped both of his hands around his mug for comfort, why was he so nervous all of a sudden?

“That’s a shame. I was actually going out right now to catch the early bird special at Bean Break.” Now that Eddie looked at her, she was dressed.

“I can go with you if you want.” Eddie offered, his schedule was clear for the day and he knew he’d be bored.

“No, no. It’s okay, I’m actually going to have a meeting with someone beforehand. He’s moving into Anna and Edgar’s apartment and I wanted to get to know him and discuss everything he’d need to know before he moved in tomorrow. It’s going to be over that ‘skype’ thing!” She sounded excited.

The words took a minute to fully sink into Eddie’s sleep deprived mind. “Someone’s moving in? Tomorrow? Are you sure?”

“I couldn’t be more sure actually. He offered a bid for the apartment less than three days after the listing went up and secured it not even a day later. The planets aligned in my favor, I won’t be losing any rent.” Linda had a small, smug grin on her face. This woman was 3 ounces of whoop-ass, Eddie could give her that.

“This may sound a little rude, but, why here? The place is beautiful but it’s not particularly close to anything important.” Eddie got up, he needed to move, and started making a bowl of cereal.

“What people find important varies from person to person dear,” Linda said this kind of distantly, but quickly snapped out of it, old people are weird sometimes. “Oh, sorry Eddie. I think the renter said something about knowing Stan.” Eddie briefly wondered if this person was the Richie Stan had mentioned less than ten minutes ago. 

“I’ll have to ask him more about it then.” Eddie turned back around and took a bite of his cereal. Mmmmm nothing like a bowl of Bland Generic Brand No-Sugar Milk Oats to start out your day. “Have a good day Ms. Handen.”

“Please, Eddie, you’ve been living here for so long, just Linda is fine.” Ms. Handen said, leaving the complex.

Waiting a few more minutes, wallowing in void of noise encased him like a blanket, Eddie decided he wanted to eat breakfast on the roof today. Leaving the kitchen, he quietly made his way up three flights of stairs, making it to the seating area he adored greatly.

In the midst of a crazy amount of plants, there was a wooden swing bench on one side of a low rising coffee table, and two red love seats that looked like they belonged in a basement covering two other sides of the coffee table, and finally a pair of wooden and metal chairs. Closer to the railing that lined the perimeter of the roof, there was a random pattern of more chairs and couches with the occasional plant and or lamp. The whole thing was kind of chaotic, but it was charming.

Carefully sitting down on one of the couches, Eddie noticed the ashtray was giving off a little bit of steam from a temperature difference. _Bev must’ve been here a little bit ago._ He thought to himself. Alone and quietly, he finished his cereal, thinking only about his plans for the day and this new neighbor of his. What was he like? Is he like Stan said he was? Will he like him? Will this change his life at all? What does he do for a living? Why is he moving here of all places? 

Eddie sat for a few minutes, his bowl chilling his exposed thighs, staring at the small cactus on the table in front of him. A shiver suddenly erupted from the base of his spine, knocking the Eddie out of his own mind. Drinking the left over milk, he got up and yawned, walking lazily across the roof and down the stairs. His bones felt stiff.

Dropping his bowl off in the kitchen, Eddie went back to his apartment. He quickly changed into running clothes, filled up a water bottle, grabbed his phone, and headed out the door, only to be pleasantly surprised. “Oh, hey Bill. You’re not normally up until, like, one in the afternoon. It’s around 7:30 in the morning.”

“Ha ha v-very funny Eddie.” Bill deadpanned. “S-Stan accidentally texted me and we just kept t-talking. We’re gonna go out to the new coffee s-shop in a few.” 

“Hey Bill your heart eyes are showing, and say hi to Ms.Handen while you’re on your date.” Eddie teased, flicking Bill lightly on the forehead. Both of them moved back down the stairs yet again. 

“It’s not my fault the most guh-good looking guy in the world lives below me.” Bill said with a smug grin, doing nothing to combat the red of his cheeks. 

“Then what am I?” Eddie watched as Bill made himself a piece of toast.

“The s-second best looking guy.” Bill said, adding a generous amount of jam to his toast. 

“I’ll take what I can get at this point,” Eddie shrugged. 

“Honestly s-same.”

A relaxed silence fell between the two as Bill prepared a second piece of toast and Eddie absently chose his playlist for his morning jog. After choosing, Eddie spoke up.

“Hey Bill did you know we’re getting a new neighbor?” Eddie asked.

“The one m-moving into Anna and Edgar’s place?” Bill asked back.

“So you do know.” Eddie paused. “Wait how did you find out?”

“R-remember how I went on a day trip up to s-see my family two days ago? I got back late, l-like at two in the m-morning, and apparently L-Linda was out and got back around the s-same time. We t-talked and she let me know.” Bill got increasingly angrier as he spoke. “G-God damnit. I thought my s-stutter was gettings better b-but of c-course it has to come b-back in full force when I t-talk for longer than three s-seconds. FUCK.”

Eddie smiled softly, “don’t worry Bill, it’s gotten much better since when we were kids, even when you talk for a bit. Your stutter is something you can’t help, don’t beat yourself up over it. Plus, you got angry, and we both know it gets worse whenever you’re emotional.”

“Kind of hard w-when you hate yourself for m-more than just your stutter.” Bill winked playfully and gave Eddie a couple of finger guns. 

“Can’t even argue with that.” Eddie snorted. “Anyways, do you think the rest know?”

“P-probably not.” Bill answered. 

“I do!” A voice called from upstairs. Stan walked through the door to the kitchen a few seconds later.

“Of course you do, he’s _your_ friend, ‘sup Stan,” Eddie greeted lethargically.

“Wait, Stan, we a-aren’t scheduled to go f-for another fifteen minutes. I h-haven’t even brushed my t-teeth or hair yet.” Bill bolted out of the kitchen and up the stairs as soon as he’d finished. 

“Hello to you too, Bill!” Stan called after the retreating figure. Turning back he spoke, “Hey Eddie.”

“Is it true your friend is moving on Saturday?” Eddie asked Stan. They both moved to sit down at a table.

“Yup. He surprised the shit out of me honestly, he was living … _good_ in New York. At least I thought so.” Stan looked down at his hands, which were wrung tightly. This worried Eddie a little bit, he knew Stan had anxiety and worried about everyone and everything to a fault sometimes.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?” A crease was finding its way in between Eddie’s brows as well now.

“Oh!” Stan’s eyes widened, he didn’t realize his tick. “No, it’s just- Richie is always memeing, I act like I hate it but he’s actually really funny and a loud, but stable presence to be around but he was …. Extra … memey ... I don’t know how else to put it. I know one meme and it’s the mocking spongebob meme. I am uneducated. But … he was everywhere when we were talking earlier today, and it’s not new or anything just, there’s usually a method to his madness but this time it felt like he was just shouting and joking and moving and, just, going, because he felt like he needed to.” Stan looked up at Eddie and saw worry, absolutely no mistaking it. “I’m sorry. That made no sense. And all of that was his business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

In all honesty, Eddie was kind of lost, but he got the gist of it. “No, no. It’s okay. Promise. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thanks. I just hope it was me overthinking it and he’s actually okay and was just high or something.”

“Did someone say HIGH?” The deepest voice in the apartment called, from god knows where.

“Wh-” Stan started.

“I’M CALLING THE POLICE!” Suddenly a dark leg jutted out from the kitchen opening and stomped. After a second the rest of Mike comically appeared out of the doorway, a giant grin on his face. Eddie and Stan had nearly completely forgotten the very intense moment they shared two seconds ago.

“How long were you there? Also why are you so excited at, what? 7:53 a-” Eddie was cut off.

“MICYCLE HAM-LOCK HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!” The screech of yet another person, distant but ever present, erupted and filled the halls. Footsteps were now heard stomping down two flights of stairs. 

Seconds later a fake-angry Ben Hanscom appeared in the doorway, staring at Mike. Eddie and Stan were, needless to say, stunned into silence. Mike was dying, leaning on a counter for support. “The ONLY, and I mean ONLY fucking reason you won that match was because you MAIN Reaper, I have LESS than AN HOUR on him and I have a GOLD BORDER! I demand a rematch you THOT.”

“Ben you’re mad because you’re bad.” Mike teased.

Meanwhile Stan and Eddie, still silent, were wondering what ancient tongue they were speaking in. What? Why is Ben bad? Reaper? Gold border?

“I’m not BAD I’m TIRED you had me playing ALL NIGHT” Suddenly, a door was heard. 

Not slamming, but creaking, as though it was opened very slowly and silence fell. Color drained out of all four of the faces present. The air became cold. Thumping down the stairs ricocheted off the walls.

All four of the men in the room looked to the wide entrance to the kitchen as a woman appeared, head bowed, her phone held above her red hair. It’s alarm was set for 8 a.m. sharp.

The tension could have been cut with a knife. The alarm went off. 

Bev slowly looked up. If he wasn’t a grown ass man Mike would have peed himself.

“I had. One hour of sleep left. Then I woke up again, not naturally, not by an alarm, but by you idiots screaming about Overwatch, one. One. Minute. Before my alarm.” Ben and Mike were on the verge of tears, Eddie stifled a chuckle, Stan was just staring at them, dumbfounded.

“And it was a Reaper duel. You couldn’t even argue about a good hero. I am-” Mike cut her off.

“Wait what’s wrong with Reaper?” He sounded accused, but there was a smile on his face. Ben sighed, relieved, and all tension was gone.

“He’s a giant pussy! He had like what? 40 Years to ask out the love of his life and what’d he do? Destroy an entire organization rather than admit his feelings.” 

“She’s got a point.” Ben added.

The trio’s argument dissolved into white noise as Eddie rubbed his face with his hands, “okay, I'm going to leave before my run never happens today. Good luck with Bill and good luck with the Nerd Trinity over there.” Eddie quietly said to Stan. “Bye bye!”

“Mm, bye!”

And with that, Eddie slipped out of the building, hearing a last completely indecipherable phrase before the heavy glass and wood door shut behind him. That was way too much for one morning.

An hour, a 6 degree temperature change, and 7 miles later Eddie found himself back in the comfort of his apartment, everyone had gone and peace reigned.

After showering and having breakfast 2: protein edition, he headed into town to run basic errands. Getting more coffee, getting minor groceries, sitting in a park and responding to emails, editing content, planning trips, planning next week. Small things that made a big difference, when he caught himself thinking about his mom, something he hadn’t done in months.

He was 10 and walking his bike home because he was scared to fall off, Sonya met him on the porch and pounced at the sight of him, “do you know how late it is?” She said frantically.

“It’s 6:15 Mommy.” Eddie responded, “I’m on time!” But she just glared and told him it was 5:30 from now on.

He was 12 and riding his bike, he’d had a blast with Bill and the homeschooled kid, Mike. It was the first time he’d swam in the quarry, with the nasty water and unknown depths, he’d lost track of time but he felt happy, he felt adventurous. His mom didn’t share his opinion.

He was 14 and it was dark out, he knew rationally that it was dangerous, especially in a town like his, and especially being by himself, but he didn’t want to go home. He’d been riding for hours but nothing felt like enough. It felt so good to ride the empty streets half lit up by dying bulbs. It felt good to take a sudden right if he wanted. It felt good to feel the chilly wind on his face- he didn’t get home until 11 p.m. That night was the first full blown fight he and his mom had ever had, even though he knew he was wrong. 

Things didn’t get better after that.

Eddie shook his head vigorously and looked out at the soccer field in front of him, a group of local guys were playing for fun- one winked at him when they caught him staring and he blushed, somewhat frantically gathering his things. Eddie noticed it was dark out, just like that night so many years ago.

He hadn’t talked to his mother in ages, but knew any sort of contact would immediately alert her to his location and she’d literally sell wherever she was living to come to him. Maybe he was cruel for that. Maybe a letter with no return address could work. He didn’t know why he was so convinced that never speaking to her was the best thing, but he’d spent 20 years of his life miserable and manipulated, and he was determined his 21st would break the pattern. 

He still felt the shadow of all those years, staring at his dry and cracked hands from washing them so much, having to talk himself through minor panic attacks when he saw spots on the glasses at restaurants, actually having to leave the room if someone coughed into their hand and touched something he had, going through an entire process to let himself sit on the ground. He wished he was just carefree, he wished he was brave.

_Maybe I should just call her on a burner._ Eddie thought.

_Or maybe I should just not._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This hasn't been read over like at ALL so pls excuse any mistakes!! Richie gets moved in and meets the whole gang!
> 
> Thank u guys sm for reading!

It was Saturday. 

Okay it might be 12:01 a.m. but according to Richie, it was move in day. He’d left New York an indiscernible amount of time ago and has stopped at four different McDonald’s at least. He was convinced that each state had a different menu but chalked it up to sleep deprivation for the reason he couldn’t actually find anything new.

He didn’t know why, but he was nervous. Like, really, really nervous. He only got this way talking to his dad, nervous. He was about to move in with his best friend! He should be excited, blasting music, calling Stan! Calling his brother! Richie’s heart stopped for a second at that last thought. Whatever.

It was silent for a minute, then Richie bellowed “oh my GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD this is SO BOOOOORINNNNGGG” and slammed his finger on the call button. It rang twice, then ended.

“This bitch just really hung up on me!” Richie said in disbelief. He called again. Then again. Then the fourth time Stan picked up.

“Richard. It is not even 1 a.m. yet. Your reason better be good or so help me.” Stan’s voice was groggy with sleep, so it didn’t sound as threatening as usual.

“Stan you know you can’t resist me.” Richie felt him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line, “bro I’m BORED!”

“Listen to music then.”

“I’m going to but right now I feel like bothering you!” He drummed on his wheel, “it’s four a.m. and I’m talking to Stan I’m annoying as hell but he’s the man! By this time tomorrow I’ll have my new bed and IIII willl finaaallyy sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!” Richie sang well, oh if only he could actually think of good lyrics.

“It’s actually 12:13 and so far this is going nowhere.” Stan felt like he was being mean, but then again it actually was 12:13 in the morning. “When did you leave?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Richie looked out of the window and then abruptly swerved back into his lane. Thank god no one is on the road, it’s a miracle he even has a license and he couldn’t afford to pay for a damaged rental car right now. Why the hell did he decide to drive across most of the country again? “I feel alive, Stan. Like I can feel my heart pumping and my hands are shaking a little. This is so epic.”

Stan cringed, “epic? Richie I think you’re having an allergic reaction, or a panic attack.” He heard a snort from the embodiment of chaos he was talking to.

“Stan…. Puh-lease….” then a pause. “Okay maybe you’re right I don’t know what’s happening to me I was perfectly okay two hours ago and then my music just stopped playing and now everything hurts and I can’t focus and everything feels far away and my heart rate is so high my watch is saying I’m working out- which is funny now that I think of it- but still, my guy” Richie spoke in one breath. His friend sat up, wide awake now, and worried.

“How far away are you now?”

“Honestly I should be there before the local diner finishes their early bird special, I’m like two or three states away. Where though? Couldn’t tell you.”

“You have a phone.”

“And you have the ability to hang up, and yet. It’s part of the thrill.”

Stan smiled a little, “Richie you need to rest.” The latter made a noise. “Is there a specific reason you can maybe pinpoint as to why you’re nervous?”

Richie sighed, “I don’t know, Stan. I didn’t tell anyone I was doing this until I quit my stupid dough boy job at Ritza’s and called you, let alone my dad.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Stan responded, “Richie how long ago did the idea to move even come up?”

There was a long pause. “Like a month ago.”

“For you, that’s longer than usual before going through with a bad idea.”

“Honestly I can’t even take the credit, the only thing that stopped me was the fact there wasn’t any openings” Richie mentally and physically shrugged.

“Remember what you said last night about how you were a hot times three mess times seven? That whole equation is squared. You’re like the quadratic formula of messes.” Richie snorted and some silence passed, “I’m bad at the whole comforting thing and so I probably didn’t help much but, Richie you’ll be okay. Not even losing a leg could slow you down.”

———————

“What do you mean you got a flat tire?!” 

“A leg cannot slow me down, but you never said anything about a tire! Stan calm down I can literally feel you pinching the bridge of your nose through the phone.” Richie looked around at his surroundings: some trees over there, a road, then some trees over here, couple of flowers. “Can you come pick me up? I think I’m right outside of town.”

Stan was already half-way down the stairs, “duh, I can’t just leave you stranded.” He stopped, “actually, on second thought-”

“STANLEY FOR THE LOVE OF GOD” Richie begged, his friend’s tiny voice laughing at him through his headphones.

“Yeah yeah, remember what my car looks like?” Stan turned his face away from the receiver and opened the door to the building backward in order to one handedly fumble with his keys.

“I think so,” he said with a smile.

“What are you s-” but Stan didn’t finish. The metallic thunk of the door rang in the air behind him as his hand fell from his face. “Richie.”

“Henderson!” Richie sprinted from his resting position against his car into Stan, nearly barreling into the door.

“Richie I can’t breathe, also I don’t get whatever reference that was” Stan wheezed out, Richie ignored his comment and let go, holding him out like a dad after his kid’s first day of third grade and does a once over, beaming. Stan was fighting the urge to also break out into a stupid grin.

“I feel like everything and nothing has changed all at once! We’ve talked at least once every day for like, forever, but this is the first time in, what? Four, five months? That we’ve seen each other in person!” Richie was ecstatic.

“That isn’t that long, honestly.” Stan patted his friend’s hands and shrugged, he was glad to finally see Richie again, although he didn’t express it much outwardly. Richie has known him for long enough to understand that, but he noogies him just in case.

“Ow what the hell?” But they were both smiling from ear to ear. They both looked up after hearing the door close again.

“Is that Stan? Showing someone some sort of physical affection?” Mike sounded genuinely shocked. “Who are you master of all things Stan?” He asked Richie. Stan rolled his eyes and let his best friend go.

“I,” Richie paused dramatically and bowed, “am Richie Tozier, the first of my name and master of all things Stan,” he mustered his best royal accent. 

Mike played along, “how do you do sire? I am Mike Hanlon, second of my name and master of all things except laundry folding.” They both stood straight again into easy postures. 

“Nice to meet you Mikey,” Richie put his hand out, and when Mike when to shake it he pushed the it up and high fived him instead, “I’m your new neighbor!”

Mike looked confused for a second at what had just happened and then smiled again, “Ah! The Richie Tozier I never hear enough about, welcome to the building! I’m in apartment 3B.”

“Stan talks about me?!” He looked to the man in question, who just shrugged and looked away, “you talk about me!!” Richie dramatically put one hand on his heart and the other on his face.

“Mike is lying.” Stan deadpanned, arms crossed.

“Am not!” Mike said, “whatever the case, we should probably start moving you in before it starts getting super hot, you’re moving into 4A right?”

“Yessir! I don’t have much so it shouldn’t take too long.” Richie said with a grateful grin

The three worked together and all of the boxes had been moved within an hour. Richie got to know more about Mike: that he’s in school studying to become a history and anthropology major, that he wants to become an archaeologist, then retire as a professor of Egyptian history, and go to Timbuktu.

“I just think it’d be neat, even if all its libraries were burned,” he said when Richie asked why.

Richie just stared at mike with his jaw hanging open and Stan dropped the box he was holding, “WHAT happened now?”

Mike shrugged, “back in 2012.” The other occupants in the room didn’t know how to respond, luckily a perfectly timed distraction had appeared in the shape of Bill and Bev.

“What on earth? Stan I’ve literally never heard you yell that loud, what happened?”

“That’s exactly what I’m asking Bev!” Stan put his hands on his forehead and then gestured wildly, “apparently Timbuktu doesn’t exist anymore!”

Mike said, “I never said that” at the same time as Bill with “I thought it never existed.”

Richie chuckled, “maybe I’ll have competition for once for the stupidest priorities in a room.” 

Both Stan and Mike whipped around to him, “Timbuktu is an ancient city full of culture and knowledge, it is a sacred place with a rich history that absolutely is NOT stupid, Richie!” Stan retorted. The man in question just shrugged and raised his eyebrows with a dumb-looking half smile, oblivious that what he said was a bit insensitive.

“Ah! Richie!” All of the attention in the room went to Bev as she moved into the room, “Nice to finally meet you, Stan talks about you all the time. Im Bev!” She stepped over a garbage bag in the doorway and went to shake Richie’s hand, instead he grabbed it and spun her around.

“Crikey Stan! Ye didn’t tell me ye was livin’ at a castle with the Queen!” Richie said in a horrible australian accent, Bev laughed out loud and Bill came into the room.

“Oh my god guys, please don’t mind him I haven’t found a muzzle that fits his trash-mouth yet.” Stan slumped, Richie threw an arm around his shoulders.

“They love it!” Richie said.

“We love it!” Bev responded, “it’s all good Stan, one bad accent and, honestly, the worst pickup line ever, won’t chase us away.” 

“See Stan! I’m not as bad as you make me out to be, and you” he looked to Bill, “haven’t said a word. You good?”

“Oh y-yeah! Sorry, I have a st-stutter. It’s em-mbaras-sing. I’m Bill.” A shit eating grin cracked Richie’s face in two and he glanced to Stan, before responding.

“No need to be embarrassed Bill, people who make opinions on shit like that are stupid and ugly and I hate them,” Bill smiled at that and everyone laughed at least a little bit. “Now!” Richie stood up and clapped, alerting the room. “I can finish setting things up and figuring out where I want them to go while you guys gossip about how much you love, or hate if you’re Stan, me. Nice to meet you Bill, Mike,” he paused and winked, “Bev.” She smiled.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” “Nice to m-meet you too!” “See ya around dude.” Bill, Mike, and Bev left, and Richie watched them go for a second with a small smile, before looking down to Stan, who had sat on a box, frantically.

“You came off a little strong” Richie let out a huge breath at Stan’s words, “but that’s just the Trashmouth Flare,” he finished with a smirk. “You probably have met Ms. Linda already,” Richie nodded and fixed his glasses, “which leaves Eddie and Ben. And Dylan. Dylan is in Guadeloupe right now or something though on a mission trip, dunno when she’ll be back. Eddie is probably either walking the dogs or running, and Ben is at school. By the end of the day though you’ll have met everyone.”

“Oh god my heart was racing, it’s literally never been this bad,” Richie wiped his forehead and stuck his hand in Stan’s face, “I’m sweating!” 

“Its 80 degrees outside and you have your AC off.”

“Oh fuck you’re right, how do I do that? Turn it on I mean.” Stan pointed to the thermostat, “oh right!”

As Richie fiddled with it a bit and began to unload some boxes, he started humming, which turned into full blown singing before stopping abruptly and turning to stan with an excited look, “oh yeah! Dude I bought a new turntable and speakers, the setup is so fucking sick! I spent way too much money on it!”

“You don’t have a job right now.” His friend admonished, even though he got up to help look for all of the pieces.

It didn’t take long for the two to find it and for Richie to set it up, but in the middle of the process Ben had shown up. The two hit it off surprisingly well and ended up talking about the future of games and things they were looking forward to with future conventions, a weird topic to start off on but they both enjoyed themselves. After a brief goodbye and Stan talking with Ben about dinner plans, he and richie went back to their easy banter.

When the record started rolling the sun started to set and filter in through the blinds, bathing the messy, half set up apartment in gold. Billy Joel’s voice floated through the air like a spell and it took them both back to a time when laughing was easy; back to when life was as simple as Stan watching Richie dance himself to death to the radio or songs he blasted over his house’s bluetooth speakers.

“-and that’s why they’re the best.” Stan must’ve spaced out, though, as he was reminiscing, because all he caught of what Richie was saying was the tail end, but Stan knew Richie well enough to know what he was talking about. 

“I think I could quote that speech from memory, you’ve said it so many times.”

“That’s because I’m right and vinyl is the best, Stantonio. Everyone must know my opinion always.” Richie crossed his arms defiantly.

“Oh that’s a new one,” Stan rolled his eyes, but was nonetheless impressed by how many nicknames one person could have. Richie bowed in thanks as Stan checked his watch, “oh shit it’s almost 7, Ms.Linda will kill us if we’re late for dinner.” He stood up and started pushing Richie towards the door, “your apartment can wait!”

Richie, slightly confused at the sudden change of pace, gave a two finger salute in response, “as you wish Stan the Man. Is this like, a tradition?”

“Yup, friday we’re allowed to party, saturday night we better be sober and at the kitchen tables by the time the last plate is served. Usually we take turns cooking but more often than not on Ben’s night we have take out.” Stan delivered the facts in his usual cold cut fashion and finished as the two walked into the kitchen.

“Oh sick! Chinese take-out!” Richie’s eyes lit up and he looked to Stan, “did you have something to do with this?”

Before he could answer Ben interjected, “yup, he said you were a ‘finicky eater’ and as a welcome we decided to get your favorite food!” Ben gave a small smile.

“Stan, ‘finicky eater’? You sound like my mom,” but Richie was smiling. He turned to the group and addressed them all, including Ms.Linda who had shown up second ago, “seriously though, thanks a million dudes,” he nodded to Linda and Bev with a cheeky look, “and ladies, for the warm welcome. I haven’t seen much of Colorado but people up here smile _way_ more than New Yorkers.” Richie threw his head back a little bit and put his palms up as he spoke, he never sat still, and earned even more smiles. “Seriously! You guys are doing it again!”

“That’s because you’re funny!” Mike said.

“Which means my work here is done. Are we allowed to eat?” Richie asked excitedly.

“Dig in!” Ms.Linda responded, “you don’t need my permission,” and the night dissolved into easy conversation about everything and nothing, passing containers back and forth, laughing at dumb stories that had happened to Richie, laughing at dumb stories that had happened to everyone. Mike was in the middle of a story about how a cousin of his hijacked a tractor and wrought havoc on his farm when Bill stood up and began walking away with his phone.

“Everything good?” Bev inquired.

“I w-was just gonna c-call Eddie,” and he motioned toward the empty chair at the table. Everyone except for Richie, who looked around confused and expectantly, exchanged ‘uh oh’ glances.

“Don’t worry, don’t wor-ry” Ms.Handed said, “he took Rocco and Gabby out for a doggy spa day. He should be back by now but knowing him he’s probably lost track of time at the park. I’m not as strict as you guys make me seem with this tradition, it’s nice is all!”

“When you put it like that it sounds like he’s more dog than the dogs,” Bev joked.

“Are the dogs bigger than Stan’s mom’s-” Richie began, when he was interrupted by the front door opening. He looked to the side just in time to see a short man covered in mud and looking angry walk in with two dogs whose heads were above the table itself. Just one of the beasts could have easily mauled Richie _and_ Bill at the same time, but the moment Linda stood up to greet them they sat down with massive dog grins on their faces, their little nubs going absolutely insane. Richie didn’t have time to take in how pretty the dogs were though, because Eddie immediately began ranting.

“Ms.Handen I am _so_ sorry I wasn’t here sooner, but,” and Richie could tell a whole lot was gonna come out, “the local groomers was having a deal today and the dogs hadn’t been groomed in a long time so I thought why the hell not, you know? So I go there and it takes _forever_ because all of the city decided to _also_ get their dogs groomed, luckily I had booked an appointment last night because these dogs would be in horrible shape if I didn’t, but even though there was an appointment it still was delayed by _half an hour_ and so when they finally took them back they gave me another discount, which is good I guess, but _still_. Then the grooming took way longer than it should have for two short hair breeds, and so that was even more time gone, but it wasn’t too late then so I decided to go the park,” Eddie didn’t pay any attention to Bev’s ‘I told you’ (even though she didn’t tell them).

Eddie’s 3,000 word part-apology part-rant had him front and center of attention, which gave Richie an opportunity to study him without looking weird. He liked people watching, but people did not like being watched. 

He was short, Richie saw that earlier, but upon a second glance Richie saw he was also muscular. Not like over the top, but he looked like a runner. His hair was short, but long enough to wave, and was an absolute mess currently. It was a rich brown similar to his eyes, which brought Richie’s eyes to the freckles that dusted his cheeks, which looked flushed despite his tanned skin. This person was absolutely gorgeous, and Richie could tell that he knew absolutely nothing of it. He got too engrossed in admiring though because his attention was brought back suddenly to the speech at hand, ”-then I decided to play soccer but then the local guys came and they joined in and I got _clapped_ and got absolutely filthy and when I realized just how dirty everyone was I look at my watch and it’s already dinner time and so I came back as fast as I could because I remembered- wait who are you?” Eddie took a huge breath and finally noticed Richie as he made another motion with his arms.

“Please, continue, there’s more in there and this is super entertaining,” Richie responded with the tone of voice like a CEO receiving a sales pitch after a moment’s hesitation. The smaller half-glared half-completely-dumbfoundedly-stared at Richie, before hesitantly doing what he said with a shrug.

“-what day it was.” Eddie looked to Richie, “that was it.” The latter just shook his head with an amused smirk, and Eddie took another deep breath, “sorry guys.”

Bev got up and slung an arm around him, “Eddie no offense but there’s legit no reason to look so sad! We saved you orange cauliflower and all of the duck sauce since you’re insane and think it’s good, and you’re here before dishes needed to be cleaned!” She gestured towards the table.

“I would be affectionate back but I literally feel like im crawling out of my skin,” he responded.

“D-dude you tr-rail r-run for fun, how can you n-not put up with dirt b-by now?” Bill oh so helpfully asked.

“Dude you’re in your twenties, how are you not travelling the world living your best life by now?” Eddie retorted.

“Dude, low blow” Mike added, even though everyone in the room was smiling at some degree. 

“Also I never caught your name?” Eddie looked to Richie again. And it took Richie a second to respond again, Eddie talked super fast and for some reason all Richie wanted to do was stare at him.

“I am Dick Toe.”

“Richard Tozier,” Stan corrected immediately through a mouth of lo mein.

“Richie, actually,” he said as he flicked a piece of rice towards Stan, hitting Ben instead, which both he and Bev found absolutely hilarious, “oh my god I am so sorry. Anyways,” he turned his focus back to Eddie, “I’m Richie Tozier and I’m the love of your life,” he winked.

Eddie pretended not to notice the heat on his face and spoke without missing a beat, “and I’m Eddie Kaspbrack, and you’re watching Disney Channel,” he looked irritated and bemused at the same time, if that was possible. Everybody went absolutely ape shit on Richie, which made the dogs start barking. “Alright! Alright,” he called over the chaos, quieting it only slightly, “I’ll grab some leftovers later, I need to shower! Night for now,” and he half waved to a chorus of ‘nights and goodbyes as he left the kitchen

The group settled back into an easy joking atmosphere, and Richie acted like his face wasn’t on fire and all of the pride he’d built over the past 14 years hadn’t been toppled in one blow. He’d experienced Eddie for less than 5 minutes and interacted with him for even less than that, so why on earth was he shaken up so much? He decided not to dwell on it as the night slowly came to a close, everyone heading up at different times but all saying some iteration of “if I eat any more I’m gonna puke, and nice meeting you again Richie!” Until it was finally just him, Stan, and Bev.

Bev sighed daintily, then burped, which she and Richie laughed at way too hard. “Tonight was a good night.”

“Yeah,” Richie said the same time Stan mhmed. 

“You finish moving in? Stan stayed up there to help you.” Bev said.

“Nah, we got carried away with ~boy talk~” Richie wiggled like a teenage girl, then sobered into a relaxed smile. “Nah” he said again, “we dug up my record player and literally just sat on the floor because sometimes you just should absolutely do that even though there are things to get done.”

“Here here,” she agreed. “Let me know when it gets all finished though, see if your taste is atrocious or not.”

“Hey!” He tossed a fortune cookie at her, which she caught.

Bev smirked at him, “high school softball varsity bay-bee.” She opened the package and cracked the cookie, “‘Stop rethinking the past, you can only move forward.’” All three people in the room tiredly stared at the tiny slip of paper, a silence suddenly engulfing them, ‘till Richie.

“Damn, truth hurts.” He half heartedly joked. 

“Like aye yi yi,” Stan added, Bev gawked at him while Richie had never looked prouder.

“Did- did you just make a reference to popular culture?” She asked, which he just smuggly nodded to.

“If this night wasn’t great it is now, I didn’t know you knew who Lizzo even is,” Richie sounded like he was about to cry.

“I don’t,” Stan stated, which for some reason was really funny to Bev.

“Ah, well, it’s getting late and even though I probably will still stay up I should head to bed, night guys and see you tomorrow!” Bev left after picking up after herself and blowing them each a kiss; Stan got two because Richie stole his first one.

“And then there were two,” Richie said as he stood up and stretched, “I can take care of your stuff, you look tired as hell.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!” Stan watched as Richie hummed to himself, picking up the remaining few dishes and putting away the containers, when the latter caught him. “Why do you look like that?”

“What? Happy?” Stan asked.

“Yeah.

“Can’t I just smile?”

“No.”

“Oh ok.” Stan paused, then continued as got up and went to the fridge to fix the horrendous way Richie put everything back, “It’s just nice.”

“_Huh?_,” Richie looked at him.

“Seeing you make only two mom jokes a conversation instead of twelve and taking adult initiative. Like cleaning up after yourself.” He answered simply.

“I feel like I should be offended,” Richie began, “but I’m glad you noticed my character arc.” Stan rolled his eyes. The two finished roughly the same time and began to drag themselves up the stairs, stopping in front of Richie’s door. They just kinda stood there for a second before Stan spoke.

“I’m glad you’re back,” He confessed. The genuinity of the statement made Richie snap his head to his friend, only to find him already looking up. Stan rarely ever grinned, but it still appeared more often than the small, peaceful smile on his face then.

“Dude you’re my best friend,” Richie blurted. Stan knew he didn’t know how to process emotion like a normal person and just accepted the response. Richie held out his fist to do his normal hand shake with Stan, since he knew he didn’t like being touched that much, and was surprised when he got a hug, albeit a short one, in response. It might’ve been awkward for literally any other two people, but they were Stan and Richie, Richie and Stan, and it was enough for both of them.

“Goodnight,” Stan said as he walked to his unit.

“‘Night.” Richie responded, and walked in his own. He sighed and rested his back against the door, running a hand through his hair, before letting himself breathe for once. _Damn._ He thought. _This really is nice._


End file.
